


Fair Game

by PhantomWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s15e13 Destiny's Child, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: Sam and Dean encountered a completely different version of themselves.An AU of Episode S15E13 "Destiny's Child".
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	1. Sammy and Deanno

**Author's Note:**

> I used the tags HunterCorp Dean & HunterCorp Sam for the alternate Sam & Dean in this fic even if they aren't the same ones from ep S15E13.

The heavy and ornate mahogany doors opened at exactly 12:30 in the evening and came in a couple dressed handsomely, their cheeks streaked with redness from one too many flutes of champagne from the evening celebration they came from. 

“Remind me not to wear this outfit again,” the man muttered. He wasn’t one to normally voice his complaint, thinking he would sound whiny, but it seemed that the alcohol was loosening up his tongue. “I look ridiculous in purple. Like… Like Barney.” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you seriously comparing yourself with a purple dinosaur?” Her sigh was fond. “You should have seen yourself in the mirror, dear.”

“I mean, I did? While you were helping me with the pocket square.” He idly touched the handkerchief. “I don’t know. I thought it’ll be nice, but, er, I might have stood out too much earlier.”

“And that’s a bad thing? To stand out on _your_ own book signing event?” the woman snorted. “Honestly, you’re the only person I know who doesn’t want the spotlight even if he earned that right.”

The man shrugged. “That's me.”

“Aye. I know you too well.” The woman walked closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know as well that you deserve everyone’s attention the most, you humble giant.”

With their difference in height, she has to tiptoe to peck his cheek, though the man eagerly met her halfway to give her an eskimo kiss in return, making her giggle a little uncharacteristically. 

It only served to make her endearing to him. 

“Thank you, though, for helping me pick,” he said earnestly. He let his hands stay on her slim waist, nuzzling the top of her head affectionately. “Should I get used to this from now on?”

“Well,” she began, patting his chest teasingly. “If you haven’t realized it yet that I’m gradually improving your wardrobe, then you’re not paying attention, dear.” She smirked at his mild indignation and pulled herself from his hold. “Although, if I have to choose,” she made a show of running her eyes from his head to toe, “My favorite will always be getting you out of your clothes.”

The man went red from root to tips, much to the woman’s utter amusement. 

“Come join me upstairs if you’re willing to let me do so tonight,” she said, flicking her long red hair over an exposed milky shoulder. She walked up the stairs, sashaying her hips, knowing full well that the man's eyes followed her and the sway of her lacy black dress that seemingly molded itself with her curves. 

As the man stood there dreamily and thinking what a damn lucky man he was to have someone so beautiful not only on the outside but also on the inside, someone who understood all his quirks and accepted him for what he was, he couldn't help but finger the small velvet box he was keeping inside his pocket. 

_Tonight,_ he promised himself. He would ask the big question tonight. 

He could have done it during tonight's event, but then again he wasn't really into big gestures. He was in his element in moments where it was quiet with just the two of them sharing a blanket of comfortable silence. 

Well, springing out the question right before he was about to get sex was not the romantic scene he was aiming for either, but… anymore prolonging and he would butcher this one out.

He knew her and been together with her for three years now, and yet he found his hands shaking and sweaty in nervousness. She loved him back, of that he was sure of, but what if she didn't want the same? Would she think that they were moving too fast? He didn't want her to think that he would limit her freedom and independence once they were legally bound together. 

The man was roused out from his thoughts when a black mass of fur rubbed itself against his leg. He picked up the cat and scratched it behind the ear. 

"Do you think your mom will say yes, Merlin?" the man asked anxiously. 

Merlin merely purred in response at the attention it was getting, closing his eyes in bliss. The man humored him for a bit if only to delay a rejection he could possibly get. 

_Oh, god, I'm being a coward,_ he thought. An indecisive coward. 

Merlin perked his head up and stared at the man. The cat seemed to agree with him, he thought gloomily. 

The cat jumped back to the ground, sniffing the air and looking around. The man watched Merlin's odd movements before he broke into a run to the kitchen and out in the back. Puzzled at Merlin's sudden bolting, the man followed the cat sedately to the backyard. 

"Merlin?" he called when he heard a loud and almost incessant yowl from the cat. _Must have scented a prey,_ he thought. 

And upon walking out to follow, what greeted him was…

A line. 

The man stared, stupefied. Line was putting it mildly. It was glowing in an orange hue, for god's sake! It was floating, he supposed, like a tear of some sort in the middle of—he didn't know, space, maybe? 

"What the hell?"

Merlin continued to yowl on the ground, encircling the line. If the man didn't know better, he'd say that the cat was excited at the discovery, like it was just handed a new toy. Merlin's pupils were round, illuminated by the reflection of the orange light. He looked up in wonder and awe. 

It was unnatural, indescribable by words—and the man has plenty of those—yet his hand itched to reach out, to touch and see how it would feel. 

Curiosity killed the cat, they said, though in this case, its victim was the man instead. 

"No, Samuel, don't!"

The last thing he heard was Rowena's warning that came a little too late. 

* * *

Dean woke with a pounding headache. 

He groaned, sitting up from the cold hard floor and…

Where in the world was he? 

Dean looked around his surroundings wildly and noticed that not far from him was someone lying face down and— _God_ , the guy wasn’t dead, was he? 

He was saved from the trouble of checking for a pulse when the man twitched and shifted on his back, groaning aloud and blinking awake before shooting up in a sitting position and finally noticing Dean. 

“You too, huh?” Dean said. 

“What?” the man asked. “What do you mean by that? Where are we?”

“My guess is as good as yours, man. I just woke up a minute earlier.”

The man made a move to stand, straightening on his feet. He was tall, and Dean himself was tall. Dean respectfully didn’t take note of the atrocious purple suit and the hideous man-bun that got messed up. 

Just when Dean was having the impression that the man was posh with the getup and all, he approached Dean and stooped down to lend him a hand. Dean thanked him, patting away the dirt from his coat. 

He got a better look of the area once he was standing and _woah_ , the number of vintage cars he could see everywhere should be enough to trigger some kind of familiarity; it didn’t. They seemed to be in some kind of a large, rich man’s garage. 

“Battery's dead,” he heard the man mutter while tapping on his phone. 

Dean checked his. “Mine too.” 

His watch was ticking at 7:42 PM, and the last time he checked it had been somewhere around 11:30 PM. Dean couldn’t believe he was out cold for almost a day. Whatever tranq they administer to him, it must have been enough to knock out at least a baby elephant.

“Are we kidnapped or something?” he asked aloud, mostly to himself. 

The man ran his hand through his hair, his loose man-bun gone. “It’s what I think as well but the lack of bindings and the presence of a kidnapper suggest otherwise.”

“Or this is some kind of _Saw_ shit,” Dean suggested. At the man’s puzzled expression, Dean waved his hand. “Nothing. It’s a bad joke.”

“Are you alright, at least? No injuries on you?” the man asked. 

“Headache from waking up that’s ebbing away, thankfully,” Dean answered honestly. “Other than that, nothing that I know or can feel on me. You?” 

“Mild headache. Nothing more,” the man said. He closed his eyes briefly. “Um, I know this is a weird situation we find ourselves in, but if we’re going to work together, might as well get to know each other’s names.” He extended out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Dean.” Dean shook the hand. “Dean Winchester-Novak,” he said fully before he could hold himself back. Force of habit. 

Sam frowned. “Winchester?” He smiled amiably. “Are you the Winchester one? Because my name is Sam Winchester.”

“Seriously? Yeah, I’m the Winchester. What are we, some kind of distant relatives?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. Lots of Winchesters in the States alone, but, yeah, that’s some coincidence.” 

“I don’t know, man. It’s interesting to find out. Sucks it’s this way, though,” Dean said regretfully. He spotted a door at the far end of the garage. “Think that one’s locked?”

Sam followed his line of sight, deep in thought. “Only one way to find out.”

Apprehensively, they approached the door. Dean kept his eye open for any traps because you’d never know; better be prepared, right? There weren't any visible cameras that he could see at a glance so there was that. 

Dean twisted the knob, half-expecting an explosion or poison spikes or whatever this possibly rigged doorknob could release. 

Nothing came. 

Sam peered at the long hallway ahead and gave an all-clear sign. Tentatively, they exited the garage and traversed the corridor whilst frequently looking behind their backs. It was eerily quiet and a bit dark, and it felt like they were actually the one trespassing in someone else’s property. It was ridiculous. 

There was another long hallway when they turned at the bend, though this time there was a light at the far end of it. Cautiously, they approached the room, a little emboldened since they haven't encountered anyone or anything so far, and noticed that it was a kitchen with a man standing there, his back turned as he prepared coffee. 

When the man turned around, Dean couldn't keep down his relief. "Cas," he said with a wide grin and rushed to meet him in a tight embrace. 

Cas was taken aback, a deep frown etched on his face and was about to ask when Dean had beaten him to it. 

"Cas, what's going on? Where are we? I woke up in the garage of this place with Sam here. Oh, yeah, this is Sam. Sam _Winchester_ —can you believe it?" The words rushed out of Dean. "Sam, this is Castiel Novak. Cas for short. He's my husband."

"I'm your what?"

Sam genially extended a hand in which Cas shook dumbly. "Nice to meet you, Cas."

Cas glanced confusedly between Sam and Dean, studying them carefully as if trying to figure them both, particularly the one they were wearing. "I don't understand. Is this what you call a prank?"

"What? What you mean pra—"

"Hey, Cas, you done there?" came a male voice from outside. "We're just—"

Sam and Dean turned to the source of the voice and found two men standing there. 

Two men who have their faces. 

What the hell. 

* * *

“This is like _The Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ , isn’t it?” Cas heard the other Dean say. 

“What part of the alternate universe you don’t understand?” Dean retorted. “You and the Sam here with you are our alternate versions.”

“I think it’s like in the comic books,” Sam in the purple suit said. “For example, Peter Parker is the Spider-Man in his world but there’s another world where it’s his girlfriend Gwen Stacy who’s the Spider-Woman instead.” At the blank stare he got from the other three, he sheepishly added, “It’s a popular thing in our world. I used to be a fan when I was a kid—which isn’t the point, right.” He cleared his throat. “So. You said that you’re our counterparts, and you two are brothers?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Aren’t you?”

“We just met today, actually. I think Dean here is from another separate world that is not from where I came from.”

"Alright, stop. This is going to be confusing. I _am_ Dean, and my brother here is Sam. Other Sam, we're calling you Sammy. Other me, you're Squirrel."

"Why am I called Squirrel?"

"I didn't make the rules."

"You just did."

"Dean," Sam interrupted with a sigh. "Sorry. Is Deanno fine by you?"

"That's much better."

"Yeah, you look like a 'Deanno'." Dean snickered. 

Sam leveled his brother a stare.

"What's the deal with you two, anyway?" Deanno asked, ignoring Dean. He gestured around himself. "Like, is it your family's thing to kidnap your counterparts?"

"What? No. No one's kidnapping anyone," Sam defended. “Look, like you, we honestly don’t know how you got here either. What’s the last thing you remember before waking up?”

“I was driving home from an event,” Deanno recalled. “I might have stopped on the road. It was, uh—I thought I saw something.” 

“Saw what?”

“Wait,” Sammy cut in. “That thing you saw… It didn’t happen to be a line, right? Like a tear in space or something.”

Deanno snapped his fingers. “Yes! That was it. Big orange line thingy!”

Sam and Dean shared a look. 

“It was a rift,” Cas spoke for the first time. “You two encountered rifts in space, portals to another world which is… here.”

“What happened on our side then? Did it remain open?” Sammy asked Cas. 

“I checked the garage. There are no rifts open there. It’s safe to assume both are closed,” Cas answered. 

“That’s good.” Sammy sighed in relief. “I mean, my girlfriend’s probably worried to death after she saw me touching the rift, but at least she didn’t follow and possibly landed somewhere.” 

“And my husband’s bound to be doing the same by now after I left a voicemail I was on my way home and did not arrive.” Deanno rubbed his face. “Fuck.”

“Woah, wait, husband?” Dean reacted. 

Deanno gestured at Cas. “Yeah, him.” 

Dean whirled incredulously at Cas. “Hey, Cas is nobody’s husband!” 

“Well, not _him_ exactly, but my husband’s name is Castiel Novak. I suppose he’s my Cas’s counterpart then.” Deanno addressed Cas. “But are you really not my Cas? ‘Cause I have to say, you got his character from that adorably confused frown and the trenchcoat.”

Cas didn’t know what to make of the wink sent his way. 

“Can you not—he’s _not_ your Cas, alright? For one thing, he’s a freaking angel.”

“So? My husband is too! He’s a saint!” 

“I think Dean means to say that I am a literal angel,” Cas put in. “Which I am. I am an angel of the Lord.”

“Oh,” Deanno said. “My Cas is a theology professor. He’s very much human except in bed—”

“Dude, TMI!” 

Hm. It seemed that his alternate self has quite a prowess in copulation, Cas mused. Interesting. 

Sammy looked like he was embarrassed to be acquainted with the other Dean while Sam wasn’t sure whether to cringe or laugh. Cas believed it was the latter given that Sam was hiding his sniggering behind his fist. 

“Okay, enough of that,” Sam said, thankfully. “I think it’s safe to assume that you two are our non-hunter versions.”

“Is that what you do? Hunting?” Sammy asked. “Like professional deer-hunters?”

“Uh, no. Dean and I are hunters of the supernatural. This place is more or less our home and headquarters.” 

“You hunt supernatural creatures like vampires and werewolves?”

Sam nodded. He was thoughtful for a second. “You don’t… Have you ever encountered any supernatural in your world?”

“No,” Sammy said, eyes wide in awe. “Your job—I thought that’s only something I’ll read in books or watch in films. It sounds exciting!” 

“It’s dangerous,” Sam told him. “We also lost our family and some friends in our line of work.”

“Oh.” Sammy’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you. It’s already quite some time now. Doesn’t mean it’s no longer painful though,” Sam said, smiling tightly. A somber mood fell on them. “How about you? Lawyer?”

“Ah, no. I thought about continuing to law before and realized that if I did, I would have plenty of lives on my hands in that line of career. I didn’t think I could handle that kind of responsibility,” Sammy said wryly. “I took creative writing instead, and now I’m a book writer with a few books under my belt.” He chuckled shyly.

“It’s not something I saw myself as, but I’m happy for you,” Sam said genuinely. 

“What about you, Deanno, what do you do?” Dean asked.

“I own a small business,” Deannos said vaguely. “I used to be a car mechanic.” 

“What kind of business?”

“The car manufacturing kind.”

“That’s far from a small business,” Dean deadpanned. “We get it, you two are our rich selves. We can handle the bragging.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Deanno snorted. “Okay, so maybe we pride ourselves in being successful, but we work hard to get to it. The same way you apparently do as well, except you two put your lives on high risk every single time. Now, I don’t know how much hunters get paid for, but I think your jobs are nothing on us.” 

Sam fell silent while Dean looked startled before catching himself and settling for appearing chastised instead. 

“I guess you’re not so bad,” Dean muttered. He knocked on the table. “So what now?”

“You got beer?” Deanno asked. 

“We do.” 

Cas watched the four of them file back to the kitchen, smiling a little as he followed them sedately. 

The tension was finally diffused. Now, on to the solution to get the two home. 

* * *

Sammy almost forgot the small box in his pocket. 

He pulled it out and opened it. The ring remained safely settled within. He pocketed it with a sigh. Sam and Dean and Cas were good people—like men from fiction but good people nonetheless. Sammy’s imaginative brain that thrived on fantasies for future story plots couldn’t help but drink in all the knowledge Sam shared with him about this world. It was amazing, the elements of it all, from the creatures that existed aside from the humans and to the magic and beings that governed this universe. 

Okay, so God being their present enemy was concerning, but still. 

He would have thought that he was dreaming, but a pinch on his arm said otherwise. It occurred to Sammy he was probably the first man to discover the truth of the theory on Multiverse. He was exactly living a comic book or a fictional storyline right now. It was a paradise for a writer like him!

And yet… And yet he just wanted to go home to Merlin and to Rowena. 

“Oh, wow,” Sam suddenly said. Sammy noticed him looking at his pocket. 

“It’s, um... I was actually planning to ask the big question before I arrived here,” Sammy told him. He sat comfortably in his borrowed clothes (the choices were flannels of varying colors, not that he minded) across Sam who poured two cups of coffee, one for each of them. “Thank you. I’m not really a heavy drinker. I’m a lightweight.”

“Somehow, I can see that,” Sam said with a grin. “I drink moderately unlike Dean. He’s not hearing me whenever I say we’re not getting any younger.” 

Sammy chuckled. He was an only child himself, but he thought that if he had an older brother he would either be like Deanno or Dean. There would be no in-between. 

“How long have you been together?” Sam asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Three years,” Sammy said fondly. “We’re already living together and have a cat.” He glanced down on his drink. "I miss them, but to be honest, I don't know how to pop the question when I come back."

"I don't think there's a formula on how," Sam offered sympathetically. "It's not easy, but if you already made up your mind to ask, then it should come to you naturally."

"Thank you," Sammy replied sincerely. "If my Dad is still around, I would've asked him for advice. Bobby was helpful with this kind of thing." 

Sam perked up in surprise. "Your Dad is Bobby Singer?" 

"Pretty much. My real Dad, John, died of a heart attack when I was six months old. Bobby was a family friend and raised me with his wife, Karen, and my mother, Mary. It sounded weird but they made it work between themselves," Sammy told him. “Bobby was the one who got me into books, mostly sci-fi, fantasy, and mythology. That might have influenced me into being a writer as well.”

“Bobby, huh? We had a Bobby Singer too, and like yours, he was our surrogate dad. He died eight years ago, and John five years before him,” Sam shared. “Mom’s case was a bit complicated. She died when I was six months old and got resurrected four years ago and died again last year.” Sam’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I told you, it’s complicated.” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised by now,” Sammy murmured. “I know I’m only saying this because I don’t live here, but the writer side of me actually finds this world fascinating already based on what you told me so far. It’s like there’s an itch in me to explore this world.” 

“I understand,” Sam said. “It’s not the safest place, but I love it. This is our world, and it has seen a lot of close calls in the last few years, but this is home, you know? Dean and I don’t see ourselves wanting to replace it with a better one, a more normal one. It’s funny because I used to think it hated us with everything life had thrown us so far. Then you find out that it’s not the world or life, but it’s God himself.” 

Sammy nodded solemnly. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this but I don’t doubt that you’ll give God hell.” Sam's expression lightened. “I’m lucky to lead a different life because if I’m in your shoes, I don’t think I can have the same lifestyle as you do. Frankly, the brave one between my girlfriend and me is her. She’s more decisive and confident, and she’s the kind of independent woman who learns and moves on easily from her mistakes. It’s the main reason why I’m uncertain to ask her to marry me. What if she doesn’t want to be tied down? Or, say that it’s fine by her, but is it okay if it’s with me? I’m not like her or you, Sam. I honestly still think she could have done better.”

“But you’ll never know if you don’t ask her,” Sam reasoned. “You can’t let your insecurity eat you from within. It sounds to me that you two are fine in terms of communication. Maybe you can open this up to her as well.”

Sam, who was fully aware that he couldn’t hold a decent length of relationship with a woman without his life as a hunter hindering it, couldn’t believe that he was hearing himself giving advice in romance. To another version of himself even. Strange times. 

“Is it Jessica?” Sam decided to ask; he was curious, sue him. “It’s ages ago since I’ve been in a committed relationship myself, but Jessica is the last woman I saw myself having a future with.”

Sammy frowned. “It’s not her, though I recall knowing a Jessica back in college.” He reached for his wallet to show a picture of Rowena. “Actually, her name is—”

The bunker’s siren suddenly blared, and the kitchen was illuminated by the warning red lights that darkened the room and lit the hallways. 

“What’s going on?” Sammy asked when he stood abruptly with Sam. 

“It’s the bunker’s alarm,” Sam told him, pulling out a gun from his waist. “Stay close to me. I think we got an intruder.” 

* * *

Deanno whistled at the impala. “This is your ride? Sweet.”

“That’s my Baby.” Dean stood straighter in pride. “Been taking care of her for as long as I remember, even before Dad passed her down to me.”

“Inherited cars are often the most taken care of and loved,” Deanno said factually. “Well, I’ll be damned. I don’t think I’ve seen this kind of model back home. I should propose this.” 

“What kind do you drive then?”

“A ‘78 Lincoln,” Deanno said, much to Dean’s utter distaste. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. My husband chose it.”

“That’s equivalent to Cas’s pimpmobile.”

Deanno laughed. “Pimpmobile is the endearment we have for it, alright. What can I say? It’s reliable. And at least it ain’t a Fiat.”

Dean was inclined to agree with the last one. He wouldn’t be caught with a ten-foot pole with that vehicle. 

“Everything in here belongs to you, your brother, and Cas then?” Deanno gestured at the other cars. 

“They’re all here when we inherited the place,” Dean told him. “We use them as spares.” 

“And you call me rich.”

“You’re the one with a large business.”

“We expanded just recently,” Deanno allowed. “But we’re not there with the big players yet.” 

Dean grunted. Business wasn’t a forte of his, though that was largely because he never bothered to find out. Who knows? 

Deanno was fine, Dean supposed; a little uncharacteristic for Dean to consider him another self but then again their circumstances were vastly different too. 

On their way back inside, Deanno told him that he was raised by Mary after John died in a car accident. Mary was a handy woman who learned the rudimentary of car mechanics after John passed and left the startup company he had invested in. It had been a rocky start for both the family and the business, but with some help from friends like Bobby and his wife, Jody, they managed to make it into a stable business. 

Deanno was put in college, initially for a degree in mechanical engineering until he had thought long and hard and went for business administration with a major in marketing instead. He said that it was the best decision he made since that was also how he met Cas after a series of girlfriends and random hookups.

“Right,” Dean said flatly. “Your husband.”

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal to you, Dean,” Deanno said seriously. “This is not homophobia, is it?”

“Of course not,” Dean replied shortly. No, it wasn’t that _at all_. 

“Then what is it?” 

He was spared the chance to answer when Jack walked in the war room, staring between the two Deans that he was seeing. Cas was close behind him, nodding at them. 

“Hello,” Jack greeted them indifferently. 

“I explained to Jack the situation,” Cas said. “He wanted to help but Billie specifically told him not to use his powers.” 

“But we can still look for an alternative to bring you and the other Sam to your respective worlds,” Jack said. “Although it might take some time.”

“Not like we have a choice, right?” Deanno smiled wryly. “Don’t sweat yourself, kid.”

“I’ll be talking to Billie for the next step,” Jack told them, excusing himself. “Later.”

“I’ll come with Jack,” Cas said. “If you need me, simply knock on Jack’s door.” 

"Sure, Cas," Deanno replied on behalf of Dean. He mock-saluted, grinning from ear to ear as he watched Jack and Cas go. "We'll be here too if you need anything," he hollered after them. 

"Can you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Deanno asked innocently. 

" _That_." At Deanno's straight face and the raised eyebrow, Dean elaborated, "The flirting."

Deanno snorted. "C'mon. All in good fun."

"You have a husband."

"And I'm flirting with someone who's technically him but an actual angel." Deanno paused to consider for a moment. "Wait. Is that why?" A smirk formed on his lips. "You're jealous."

"I most certainly am not," Dean said a little too quickly. 

"See, that's the thing. You won't be doing that if you already bagged him," Deanno pointed out pityingly. 

"Alright. That's it. No more of this topic."

"Eh. Fine by me," Deanno allowed easily. "So who's Jack?"

"It's a long story."

"You can summarize," he suggested. 

Dean sighed wearily. He should get this out of the way. "He's Lucifer's son biologically. Cas is the Dad he recognizes," he said gruffly. "He's half-human and half-archangel, and he doesn't have a soul right now."

"Oh."

"Yep. That's our lives."

"Yeah. Sorry man, I won't be touching that subject too much," Deanno muttered. "I just thought the kid is yours and Cas's."

"Cas's, not mine," Dean reminded him tersely. 

"No, like, Jack was from both you and him."

" _What?_ " Dean exclaimed once he understood what Deanno was implying. "Where in the world are you getting these ideas?"

"Hey, now. You're the one who said he's an angel."

Dean wanted to bleach his mind when it began forming a certain image. "Jesus Christ. Cas is a guy! And he's wearing a male vessel!"

"How about angel magic?"

"Angel mag—" At this point, Dean believed that Deanno was sent to make his day even more difficult. "Okay. If that is even friggin’ possible, Cas and I are not together _that_ way.”

“Why not, Dean?”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Weak argument. My Cas is also my best friend. What’s your better excuse?”

“How about: this is a different world, with me living a different life with different circumstances,” Dean said a matter-of-factly. “I am not you, _Deanno_. I am not some kind of business man with a college degree and a peaceful married life where the most exciting thing that happened to him is accidentally jumping in a portal to another world.”

A small empathetic smile was the last thing Dean expected to get. “And doesn’t that tell you something that despite the completely different lives we have, the one thing we have in common is Cas?”

Deanno was right, Dean was aware, and because Deanno was right and his statement was forcing Dean to reexamine things that he didn’t want to in the middle of their crisis right now, Dean was irritated and slowly but surely coming close to being mad. 

Fortunately for Dean, he was, once again, saved by the bell. Literally. Or saved by the bunker’s alarm, to be exact. 

Red lights fell down in the war room in an instant, alerting both of them. Amidst the siren, there were scuffling noises against metal. 

“Dean, what’s that?” Deanno asked cautiously. Dean wasn’t sure if he was asking about the alarm or the sound along with it. 

“Shit. Intruder.” Dean reloaded his pistol. He reached for another one and tossed it to Deanno. “Take that. We’re gonna need it.” He gestured for Deanno to stay close. 

“I hope not,” he heard Deanno whisper. 

“And I hope that we won’t need anything stronger than a gun.” 

Dean crept nearby the stairs leading up to the entrance. From his position, he could see no sign of forced entry. He peered upstairs for any movement. Nothing. 

Dean was on an even higher alert, the alarm ringing incessantly in his ears. “Let’s go get the others. Something’s wro—”

A huge black mass collided against Dean, sending him skidding across the floor and crashing him against a marble pillar. 

“Dean!” 

Deanno fired three shots at the… thing that tackled Dean down. It whirled at him, its attention on him in an instant, growling and ready to pounce. 

It was a fucking black panther. 

“Take him down, Merlin,” commanded a voice.

Deanno stood frozen at the huge animal lunging towards him. Its weight slammed him down on the floor where his head smacked loudly he swore he saw dark spots on his vision. Deanno fought back against the unconsciousness and was met face-to-face with sharp rows of teeth glistening with saliva and predatory golden eyes that considered Deanno as the prey.

“G-Good kitty,” Deanno attempted. The panther snarled, its breath hot on his face. He decided to shut up instead. 

“Where is he?” came above the same voice from before. 

Under the red light, Deanno realized that it was a woman in a black dress. Purple lights danced around her hands, poised to attack. 

“I won’t ask again, where is Sam Winchester?” said the woman furiously. 

“Sam?” Deanno clarified. “You know Sam?”

A loud piercing sound rang within the bunker, so deafening that it broke the lightbulbs and the nearby glasses. It was enough to bring the woman on her knees before she snapped her head upwards, her ears bleeding, and sent a spike of purple lightning to someone above. 

Deanno covered his head when plasters and debris fell on him. To his amazement, though, nothing hit him and the weight on his chest lessened. 

“Don’t touch him,” warned a different voice, a much familiar one. 

Deanno blinked. “Cas?”

“Dean.” Cas— _his_ Cas, Deanno was a hundred percent sure—crouched down to check on him. “Are you alright?”

“I am, but we’ll talk later—look out!”

The warning seemed to be unnecessary when the purple lightning from the woman hit Cas on his back and he didn’t flinch one bit. 

“What are you?” the woman hissed. The black panther retreated to her side, snarling ferociously at them. 

Cas’s answer was a thin, pointed blade that appeared on his hand in a blink. A flicker of recognition flashed on the woman’s face. 

“Impossible,” she growled. 

“If that’s what you think,” Cas shot back evenly. 

There was a large shadow that loomed above them, forming into the shape of a pair of huge wings that encompassed the vicinity. 

“Stop!” 

Jack, the kid from earlier, emerged from another part of the room with eyes lit brightly in gold. Cas turned to him with wariness but more so his fascination with the newcomer and the realization as to what Jack was.

There were hurried footsteps that followed, and Deanno didn’t have to look to know who arrived. With the present amount of people, it was bound to be a shitfest. 

“Rowena?!”

The woman abruptly stopped, eyes darting past Cas and to the two men who came in. “Sam?” she whispered before confusedly glancing between the two Sam Winchesters. “Who is this fake?” she demanded.

The fighting had thankfully stopped, but another set of explanations was clearly needed. Again.

Deanno groaned from the ground. He wished he was as lucky as Dean to be unconscious for all of these.


	2. Castiel and Rowena

"Oh, shit. Dean!"

Deanno stood and Sam followed where Dean lay prone. Deanno was the first to shake him awake, making Dean groan on the floor painfully. 

"What happened?" Cas—local Cas—hovered over Dean. 

Dean was awake but not opening his eyes yet. "Fucking cat," he muttered. 

"Excuse me," said the other Cas, who Sam would call Castiel to avoid confusion. "May I?" he asked Cas directly, crouching at Dean's side with uncertainty. 

"Yes," Cas said, moving over to Sam's side to give space for Castiel. 

Castiel's palm was above Dean's forehead, bathing him with his grace. It didn't even last a minute before Dean blinked his eyes open to four faces. 

Dean grunted and zeroed in on the two Castiel he was seeing. "I think I have a concussion."

Deanno chuckled. "No, buddy. You're seeing my husband. C'mon, stand up."

Sam and Deanno hauled Dean on his feet. Cas was behind him just in case. Dean shook his head, straightening. 

He was okay. 

"How are you?" Cas asked. 

"Fine. Thanks, Cas."

"It's not me. It's the… other me."

Castiel took it as the chance to introduce himself properly. "I am Castiel Novak. I assume you're the Dean Winchester of this world." He turned to Cas. "And you are the version of me in here." He glanced at Sam with a frown. "I don't think you're familiar to me." 

Castiel formally extended a hand over to Sam, which the latter shook awkwardly. "Sam Winchester. I'm Dean's younger brother."

Castiel turned to Deanno questioningly. "You don't have a brother."

"Eh. He's my brother from another world." Deanno flashed a grin. 

From the other side of the room was Rowena's incredulous exclamation of "Impossible!" at Jack who was staring at her in wonder. 

"Angels _and_ Nephilims cannot coexist with humans. That's the natural order of the world," she stated to Jack who was staring at her in wonder. 

"The fact that you can cross over another world shouldn't be either, and yet here you are," Jack pointed out, unfazed. His eyes darted past her. "Four of you."

Rowena rounded over to them. "You're saying those two are not twins?" She gestured at Dean and Deanno. 

"No, ma'am," Deanno said wryly. "Got here by accident as well." He attempted a cordial smile. "Are we good now? You and your panther won't attack us again, are you?"

"That depends," she replied challengingly, eyeing Castiel in warning. He responded by sending her his own warning scowl. 

"Can you _please_ put away your cat?" Dean piped up irritatedly and warily at the still snarling black panther.

Rowena seemed to be taking satisfaction at the way he slightly squirmed (Dean would complain that he _wasn't_ ) but decided to comply. "Merlin, stand down," she commanded. 

The huge black mass of a panther glowed purple until it morphed into a sphere that turned smaller and out came a small black cat instead with sleek fur, its bell tinkling as its small padded feet made way to her. 

Beside her, Sammy was just as astonished at the transformation, stupefied as she carried the cat in her arms. "Is that Merlin? As in our Merlin _Merlin_?"

"Aye, dear," Rowena said, her patient smile jarring with her earlier ruthlessness. "Merlin is my familiar for years now."

"You're a sorceress?" Sammy asked with the same astounded tone. 

"Witch, actually."

"Wow," he murmured, almost breathless. "My girlfriend is a witch."

Sam cleared his throat when it was clear that Dean's about to go off with his mounting annoyance. "I think we should all sit down and get some facts straight?"

Everyone agreed, and in Rowena's and Dean's case, begrudgingly. Castiel graciously offered to clean up the place with a snap of his fingers. Cas couldn't deny that he missed having the same amount of grace as before. 

Seated across Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack were Sammy, Rowena, Deanno, and Castiel. It was like the setup of an odd family dinner. Jesus, there should be a joke there somewhere. 

At the unsettling silence that dawned over them and the suspicious eyes that were thrown among each other, Sam knew it was up to him to take the initiative. 

“Okay,” he said. “So, uh, to our newcomers, welcome to this world I guess?” 

There was a purr from the cat as if responding to Sam. 

“Sam, don’t make it sound like an AA for interlopers,” grumbled Dean. “I need a drink.”

Sam pulled him back down on his seat when he made a move to stand. “Sit down, Dean. We all have to be here.”

Dean rolled his eyes but sat down. Rowena rolled her eyes in return, unimpressed. 

“Right, so, as I said, this is my husband,” Deanno started, patting Castiel’s chest affectionately. “Castiel Novak. Babe, that is the other me, the other you, the other me’s brother, the other me and the other you’s kid, Jack.” He nodded at Sammy and Rowena. “That’s Sammy there, a Sam Winchester who doesn’t have a brother as well. We woke up here together. And, uh, you met his Lady.”

“We did,” Castiel said stiffly, eyes not leaving Rowena. “She hurt you.”

“Eh. Let bygones be bygones. Besides, it was just an honest mistake. Even Sam and I thought we were kidnapped. We’re not, of course,” Deanno supplied with all the intention of diffusing the tension that hung overhead like an oppressive cloud. “Truce?”

“Yeah, she hurt me,” complained Dean. 

“Dean, quit being a baby, you’ve had worse,” Sam remarked flatly. “Also, not helping.”

Sammy had the decency to look away. “Um, yes, err, Rowena, you got it all wrong. They’ve been nothing but hospitable with us so far,” he told her gently. “Actually, how did you find us? Did you touch the rift?” 

Rowena looked like she had something to say to Castiel. “No,” she said instead. “Not the same one. It closed once it got you. I have to recreate another rift, and, curiously, one of the ingredients is an archangel grace,” she squinted her eyes at Castiel when she spoke, “Creatures which I was told were already extinct.”

“And it didn’t occur to you that maybe it’s not the case in another world?” Sam asked carefully. “Does your world have the Multiverse Theory?”

“That’s fair,” she conceded. “And, no, we don’t have one, though the book I got from the old coven I was a part of contained a theory of other worlds. It was a theory until I got here myself after two months of searching for a way to recreate the portal.”

“Wait—two months?”

It was Rowena’s turn to be confused at Sammy. “You’ve been gone for two months, dear.”

“Two? We’ve just been here for two hours!” Deanno said. 

“Back in our world,” Castiel said, “You’re missing for two weeks, Dean.”

“Oh.” Deanno frowned at himself. “Does that mean like I stopped aging or something?”

“Of course,” said Jack, an ‘aha’ moment that wasn’t overt. “All worlds have their own concept of time. The same way the Empty, Heaven, and Hell exist with their own time-flow.”

“The time and space continuum is different for each universe,” Cas confirmed. “It’s one of the influences as to why circumstances varied for each world.” 

The way Cas mentioned Heaven, Hell, and this ‘Empty’ made Castiel realize something. “This world… Heaven is heavily involved among humans?” 

“Before, in the grand scheme of things,” Cas answered, a thin line forming on his mouth. “Heaven has been weak recently.” 

A flicker of understanding crossed Castiel’s features, observing Cas briefly before glancing at Jack. Castiel looked like he wanted to ask but held himself back from asking. “Heaven isn’t one to meddle with the affairs of humans,” he told them. “It has been a while since I was with my grace, but once I got an idea as to where Dean might possibly be, as confusing this has been so far, I did not waste my time arranging a way to cross the dimensional barrier.” 

“Assuming it wasn’t the residents of this world who opened the first rift,” Rowena interrupted. “I think the better question is who did.”

“There’s no need,” Dean said. “We know who it is.”

Sam didn’t want to keep them hanging in suspense, uttering a single word: “God.”

* * *

Sammy ran his fingers through his hair. Who would have thought that Sam and Dean were only scratching the surface of the kind of lives they have here? They made it seem that being hunters of this world was as simple as that. 

It wasn’t. Not at all. 

“I don’t like this, Samuel,” Rowena told him once they were alone.

He and Rowena and Deanno and Castiel were given their own rooms to turn in for the night. Like after what Sam and Dean said they expected their guests to just sleep it off and think all of these a wild dream. He wondered if Deanno was faring better than him. 

“We should get back home,” she urged. “I can replicate the same spell I used to get here. We can go back without their help.” 

Sammy smiled. “I know you can,” he said confidently, thumbing her cheeks. He missed her. “Aren’t you tired, though? I don’t know how much of fiction is true, but, uh, I thought magic can be tiring.”

Rowena stared up at him fondly before letting out a fond sigh. “Aye, it is,” she admitted. “And honestly, it has been a while since I last performed this level of magic.” She allowed Sammy to pull her in an embrace. “But I’d rather get exhausted now. I can rest once we’re safely back in our world. We can’t stay here, Sam. Not when _God_ himself is after their asses.”

“I understand,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But just one night, okay? First thing tomorrow, we can go. I’m worried about you too.” 

“Fine,” she grumbled against his chest. “We go at the crack of dawn.” 

“Promise.” Sammy parted from her before pulling her with him to sit on the side of the bed. “Before anything else, I want us to talk first.”

Rowena looked thoughtful, and for a moment there, Sammy thought he saw a hint of anxiety. She sat beside him, not letting go of his hand. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sammy asked, direct to the point. “It’s a rather big deal to keep a secret, don’t you think?”

“Would you believe me if I told you?” 

“I would have been convinced once you showed me magic.” 

She scoffed, but her eyes were lit with mischief. “And I thought I already showed you my magic in the bedroom.”

Sammy huffed out a laugh, his cheeks red. “You know what I mean.”

“Then what guarantee did I have that you wouldn’t run from the display of the unnatural?” 

“Are you seriously asking me this question?” Sammy asked. “Because you knew I wouldn’t have.”

He wasn’t even sure why he was asking in the first place. He could guess that the reason was something deeper like a sworn witch oath or something that forbade witches from revealing the truth about themselves and sharing the existence of actual magic to someone ordinary.

“I have another question—you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’m curious; how old are you?”

Rowena flinched. “I don’t think you’d like the answer to that, Samuel.”

“Why not?”

She bit her lip. “You don’t want to think you’re dating an ancient relic.”

His eyebrows rose. “That old?” he clarified. 

Okay, so give or take a hundred years. Rowena had been with plenty of people throughout her years then. He wondered about them, and he thought about what kind of people they were. Were they like him? Could be. Maybe some were with magic like her. And, oh, could some of them be famous? It was possible that she could have dated someone who was a celebrity or a public figure back then. 

Sammy couldn’t help that ugly pang that he wanted very much to shake off of him. Not only was she this high-class woman that he knew of, but she was also a special kind of human. And here she was, with plain ‘ol Sam Winchester who didn’t have the confidence to present herself. He must have paled in comparison to all those people she had in her colorful years. 

“Sam?” Rowena called him, a worried frown on her face. “Are you alright?”

“Um, can I ask you one last thing?”

“Of course. Anything.”

Sammy knew he wouldn’t be at peace as long as he let the question linger in his mind. “Why me?”

She appeared to be composing herself for the right words. “I first noticed you because of the aptitude for magic that I sensed in you,” she answered. “I was looking for a purpose as a witch back then, and I thought having an apprentice was a good way to start. Obviously, it didn’t pan out that way, and I guess it was too late to get away from you.” 

Oh. Sammy tried to keep away the disappointment from his face. In hindsight, he was expecting that answer. 

It wasn’t even what he was that she noticed first; it was what he _could_ have been. Maybe she did pity him for being the most invested in their relationship and felt guilty to break it off once she realized that he wouldn’t be this magical person she wanted him to be.

Sammy could only imagine her disappointment. 

Inside his pocket, the small velvet box burned against his thigh as if saying: _I told you so._

* * *

"You should sleep, Dean," Castiel told Deanno. "Tonight's events are understandably exhausting."

"Aside from Rowena's cat, not really." Deanno shrugged. "I'm better, much better now that you're here." He smiled warmly. "And I won't sleep unless you join me."

Castiel's eyes flickered over to the bed. "Would you like me to?"

"What? Do I want to lie down with my husband at the end of the day? _Seriously_."

"Dean, you know now what I am," Castiel said, his feet firmly planted on the floor. "I am an angel."

Deanno grinned. "You _are_ an angel."

"I am literally an angel of the Lord, Dean."

He smiled patiently. "And in case you miss it, I couldn't care less about what you are, babe."

"You should. I kept it a secret to you, after all, and you married me without knowing," Castiel reasoned. "Doesn't it bother you that I am wearing a person?"

Deanno raised an eyebrow, not put off one but curious. "Alright, that last one I don't know. How does that work?"

Castiel explained the need for a strong vessel and told his husband of Jimmy Novak, the name of the vessel he was using. Jimmy's soul was already in Heaven by the time Castiel took over, with Jimmy's permission, of course. 

"I was the guardian angel assigned to both of you," Castiel said quietly. "Jimmy was a devout man riddled with a terminal disease. His life wasn't long, but he didn't love it any less. He said that he found a friend in me." He tilted his head in remembrance. "And I in him."

Castiel told Deanno that despite the fact that he was charged to watch over two people, he had been inclined to remain by Jimmy's side more, partly for his fragile health compared to the healthy and active Dean, and mostly for Jimmy's heightened sensitivity to the supernatural that very few possessed, less so was the capability to hear an angel's voice. 

At the age of twenty-five, on Jimmy Novak's last breath before passing away peacefully in his sleep one clear morning, he said _Yes_ to Castiel, and from then on an angel wore the face of Jimmy. 

Jimmy was an orphan with no family to speak of, and the closest to friends that he had were the doctors and the nurses. For someone who had very little, he had been happy and wanted Castiel to understand and experience the world from the perspective of a human. 

It wasn't forbidden, though it wasn't encouraged either to use a vessel to walk alongside humans and for a guardian to interact with their charge. But it was exactly what happened to Castiel when he mingled with Deanno's peers and becoming acquainted with him, then becoming friends, then a close friend, then a best friend… a confidant. 

Then eventually his partner. 

"If there was one thing I had the honor to experience for myself without Jimmy's stories, it was loving another person."

Deanno hummed, lacing their fingers together. "Sounds to me, that you're more human now than an angel. In the end, it doesn't matter to me. You're my Cas and I love you. It's as simple as that."

Staring at their entwined hands, Castiel supposed that he was worried for nothing. 

* * *

When Sam finally admitted to himself that he couldn’t sleep, he stood and went to the library.

Upon his arrival though, someone was already there. 

It was Rowena—well, the alternate Rowena. 

She looked exactly like their Rowena, from the mannerism and the sarcasm, including the way she was reading the book and the mandatory glass of scotch on the table. The huge difference, maybe, was her willingness to change out of her black dress in favor of the shirt and pants left by some of the female Apocalypse World hunters. It was quite surprising to find her with a messy bun and plain clothes, something which he knew their Rowena wouldn’t be caught wearing. 

She looked up from the book with an expectant look on her face that fell when she realized it wasn’t her Sam that came. 

“Hey,” Sam said in a manner of greeting. “Can’t sleep too?”

Rowena refrained from answering, gesturing instead on the book. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. Feel free to,” Sam said. “Do you mind the company?”

“No.” She wasn’t looking at Sam when she answered. “I don’t mind.”

The silence within the span of ten minutes seemed rather awkward that Sam couldn't put a finger on why. It wasn't the same with Sammy or Deanno or the other Cas. 

Surreptitiously, he peered at her behind the book he randomly grabbed to occupy himself.

He probably should've hung around the kitchen instead, Sam thought. 

Maybe it was the fact that he just saw Sammy and her smooching the hell out of each other like they were in some kind of a romantic movie. Like Sam literally saw himself kissing Rowena. It was… weird, for the lack of a better word. 

It wasn't that Sam found it impossible—alright, a bit, maybe. But now that he thought back on how Sammy described her and with the way he was smitten to her that he wanted to marry her, somehow… somehow Sam could understand where Sammy was coming from. 

Sam wondered how their Rowena was doing right now in Hell. It had been a while, and Sam suddenly had an inexplicable urge to talk to her, or see her, at least. 

"What?" the other Rowena suddenly snapped. 

"Wha—"

"Why are you staring if you're not going to speak?"

"Um, oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to—sorry."

Rowena rolled her eyes and sighed. She glanced down in her opened book. It occurred to Sam that she wasn't really reading and was merely scowling at it, practically boring holes on the paper. 

Sam cleared his throat. "Hey." He stood, making his way closer to her. "Are you okay?"

It was the wrong question to ask, Sam realized once he sat down across her. 

Her face was splotched with red, eyes on the verge of tears. It was too late to hide them from Sam, and she sent him a murderous glare instead as if daring Sam to point it out. 

Sam wisely did not. 

"Do you," Sam started carefully, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She leveled him with a flat stare that only made her look resigned. "Why do you care?"

"I know you," Sam said. "Other you, I guess. We know a Rowena too, actually."

Sam noticed that it piqued her interest. She sniffed. "Oh?"

"Mmhm. She was a witch too. The most powerful one Dean and I know of."

"Was?" she asked a little sharply. "She died," she said, not asking. 

"Yeah," Sam answered somberly. "She asked me to kill her in order to sacrifice herself to save the world." He huffed out a humorless laugh. "And now she's the Queen of Hell."

Rowena was taken aback as if she was uncertain what to question first. She was better than that, however, and decided to settle with a look of utter interest. “Can’t say I don’t see myself being a queen, but Queen of Hell...” 

She angled her head that hid her red-rimmed eyes, straightening on her seat—both of which were simple gestures that made her appear regal in her own way. She wasn’t far off her mark, Sam mused.

“If it suits her, then it’s no question that it will suit you as well,” Sam offered kindly. “She likes it.”

“No doubt,” she said wistfully. “If we’re roughly similar in our principles and share a couple of perspectives, then that means she’s running to the first convenient thing.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Are two together?”

Sam was surprised at the non-sequitur. “Not that way you’re implying, no. I’d like to think we’re good friends, though.”

Rowena’s mouth curled into a small smile. “To each their own world,” she whispered. “You know that she likes power, aye. I confess I was like that too. Before. Until I realize later in my long life that it’s the least I wanted.” Her lips twitched. “To her, it might be you, or not. It could be whoever, but it all boils down to a single… person.”

“It’s Sammy to you,” Sam stated. 

“Thank you for stating the obvious.” She snorted. Sam grinned and caught her staring for a second. Her eyes fell on the glass of scotch, not seeing. “It won’t be the same when we go back.”

Sam took the hint, feeling a surge of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“I don’t want to presume how he reacted to your, uh, secret,” Sam said. He did remember though that Sammy had been fascinated at her reveal earlier. Something must have changed once he and his Rowena sat down to talk about it in more detail. “Still, I’m sorry that he has to find it this way.”

“And here I am who thought that he was like a child who found out that Santa was real when he learned the truth about me.” She swirled her glass thoughtfully. “But there’s a line there somewhere that he’s afraid to cross. You should have seen his face when I told him I’m old as dirt.”

Sam would have laughed if not for the thin, unhappy line that her lips morphed into. It clicked to Sam like an epiphany. 

“Wait. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Just because you have my Samuel’s face doesn’t mean that you get a free pass for mocking me,” she warned. 

“What? No. I’m not mocking you,” Sam defended. “I’m trying to think about what could have gone wrong. You two were fine earlier!”

“And it’s your business because?”

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying it is, and sorry if I’m prying a bit here, but I think there might have been some miscommunication there.” Rowena was gradually becoming incensed, that was for sure. “Look, all I’m saying is that he clearly loves you too much to give a shit how old you are.”

She scoffed. “And you know this how?”

Sam could have easily told her that Sammy has a freaking engagement ring in his pocket as they speak, but he didn’t want to be a dick and ruin the surprise. “He told me.”

Rowena appeared resolutely wanting to argue with that but couldn’t, not when Sam was clearly telling the truth. She fell silent. 

“Just talk to him again?” Sam tried once more. “I don’t want to step on some boundaries, and you know him more than I do, but if Sammy and I share a few outlooks in general, then talking about that specifically is a good way to start clearing things up.”

Rowena didn’t answer and remained studying Sam’s face, but somewhere in Sam’s mind, he knew his point reached her across. 

It would belatedly occur to Sam that he just played the role of a relationship counselor twice in that evening. You never really knew. 

* * *

They prepared for the following morning without much fanfare. 

Sammy spied Rowena quietly as she was preparing the bowl they would need. Thank goodness the ingredients were readily available, and Jack was willing to part with his grace as an alternative to the archangel grace. 

He ambled over to her with Merlin dogging (ironically) his steps. He couldn't sleep last night despite Merlin's comfortable weight nestled on his side (to think that Merlin could grow five times his size). And when he was close enough to see her face clearly, it seemed that she hadn't slept either. 

"Hey," he said. 

"Samuel," she acknowledged without looking at him. 

"I didn't sleep last night," he told her. 

Rowena paused, considering. "Me too," she admitted. 

"I don't know how without you there," said Sammy. 

She turned to him, her face softening. "You giant baby," she said, partly teasing, partly touched. 

"Yeah. Well, you got me used to it." He took her hand, covering it with his bigger ones. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know." She bit her lip without removing herself from his hold. "Look, Sam. I understand. If you don't want to be involved with me after this, I get it—"

"I'm sorry—what?"

"You—" Rowena hesitated, mildly surprised at his reaction. "Aren't you planning to break up with me?"

"What? No!" Sammy exclaimed, face thunderous. "What gave you that idea?"

"You certainly don't take kindly at my age, and as I said, I understand. It does feel like I catfished you. "

"Why in the world should I care about your age?" Sammy asked. "That's not even my point here. And it's not like you look bad for someone as old as a century or so!" 

"Well, if you put it that way…"

"And really? Shouldn't be the other way around? In all your years, you don't even think, I don't know, that you're far from my league? I'm nothing compared to the people you've been with."

"Samuel, are you hearing yourself? What utter shite have you been thinking?!" Sammy shut his mouth at that. "It didn't even occur to you that maybe the reason I'm with you right now and is ready to say 'yes' to your proposal is because I think that you're worth a hundred times more than all of them? Because you are, you moose!"

"I… I am?" Sammy asked feebly. "Wait. You knew!"

"You're not exactly being subtle recently," she told him with a sigh. "But my point is I want and I will say 'yes' to you because it's _you_ , not anyone else." 

"Oh," Sammy could only say, beet red. "This is like a reverse proposal or something. Um, I will still ask you formally later, of course. Back in our world."

"I look forward to it." She reached out to pinch his cheek endearingly. Sammy pulled her wrist to kiss it. "And I love you too."

They would be alright. 

* * *

Within an hour, two rifts were opened simultaneously in the war room of the bunker. 

Despite the short amount of time, surprisingly, an amicable exchange of farewells went around, with some begrudgingly and with unmasked relief (Dean) and an overall eagerness to go home (Rowena). 

They were yet to cross the threshold, however, when a new presence appeared all of a sudden and saying:

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It was Billie who addressed the interlopers in time and was met with an instant hostility. 

"And pray tell why we shouldn't?" Rowena demanded. 

"Because your world," Billie nodded at Deanno and Castiel as well, "And theirs are already gone. Do you want to risk going back to ruins with no way to return here?"

"What do you mean their worlds are gone?" Cas asked. 

"I told you, didn't I? God has been a very busy boy, destroying the other worlds out there and wants this one to be left alone," Billie reminded him placidly. 

Dean cursed at the background. 

"Besides, do you honestly think that the four of you got in this world without a reason?" Billie spoke in that same placid tone. "We have a plan, and you'll be helpful in the next part of it."

Sammy, Rowena, Deanno, and Castiel exchanged looks among themselves. 

Did they even have a choice?


End file.
